


How Sweet The Sound

by astorii



Series: You See, But Do Not Observe [3]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: AU, Gen, KaiAo Friendship, KaiCon Rivalry, pre-kaishin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astorii/pseuds/astorii
Summary: In which Edogawa Conan meets Kaitō KID.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conan is six and sixteen all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I do not and never will own DCMK.

Conan places his index and middle fingers against the neck of the latest victim, searching for a pulse. He finds none, which he had expected at this point in his life, and says as much to the kids who are cowering behind him. With a gentle touch, he holds the face of the dead man, moving the head around ever-so-slightly. Taking into account the conditions and the progress of the rigor mortis thus far, he determines the time of death to have been somewhere between six and seven hours ago.

He stands up, declaring the surrounding area to be a crime scene. With a fixed glare, he tells the three kids that they should not poke around until the police get here; in fact, he tells them to wait outside, giving them the task of making sure no one leaves or enters. Albeit hesitantly, they relent while vocalizing their complaints as they disappear down the hall.

Alone with the body, he waits. After what must have been three short minutes, Conan sighs. Then, he speaks. His voice is soft and quiet and a little exasperated.

“You were murdered. Do you know by whom?”

“It was probably that good-for-nothing daughter of mine,” someone grunts from behind him. “Always asking for money.”

“Do you know why she’d kill you if not for money or inheritance?” he asks, turning around. Slightly transparent and definitely unhappy with the situation, the man on the ground appears as if he were not dead. “First off, may I have a name?”

•••

His name was Keisuke Kenji and he was murdered (unsurprisingly) by his daughter for a quick inheritance.

Conan sighs as he watches the police cars drive away with the culprit in custody. He stands with his hands stuffed into his pockets. When Ayumi asks him if he’s going to ride with them back to the professor’s house, he declines. The fifth district isn’t all too far from here so it will be completely fine if he walks there. Besides, has has some...

... unfinished business.

Mitsuhiko asks him once more to make sure he’s fine with walking back. He reasons that if push comes to shove, he’ll call Ran or Kogoro to come pick him up. Genta tells him that he’s going to miss the cake that the old man bought just for their return. Conan responds with a wave of his hand.

Standing underneath a tree, he watches as the yellow beetle disappears. Then, he turns around and whispers something that gets carried away. After that, he begins his walk home to the agency. To the average person, he appears as a lone child walking down a street near sunset.

In reality, he’s sixteen and most definitely not alone.

No words are exchanged at the time though, which is perfectly fine by both parties. Conan is too busy contemplating something when he finds himself at a busy intersection. He waits on one side for the light to turn green for the pedestrian walkers.

Out of habit, he fixes his bow tie.

•••

“Elementary school brings back such memories,” Conan murmurs as he stares out the window. He’s supposed to be helping clean, but he’s just swishing a little rag with an absent mind. “Don’t you agree?”

“Conan-kun, who are you talking to?”

“Just myself,” he answers, scratching his cheek with a light touch; it’s soft and almost unnoticeable against his skin, but he doesn’t register it as his hand at first. “It’s a habit.”

Ayumi stares at him and her little brows furrow in a way that reminds him of Ran back in elementary school. His eyes cloud over with memories that he shakes away a moment later so that he may refresh her memory by saying that they better finish cleaning soon if she and the other kids of their group wish to see the new _Kamen Yaiba_ movie that came out.

At that reminder, she hops away with twinkling eyes and a newfound determination to finish the afternoon chores. Her renewed vigor is a virus that spreads to Mitsuhiko and Genta when the two notice the focused expression that has etched itself onto her face. Conan smiles, watching as the three kids work with an impressive diligence.

The trio yell at him to pick up the pace. And, well, he does because he wants to get out of here as much as they do. His motivation is a new _Detective Samonji_ book that had been out on sale when noon hit. He knows that the bookshop owner typically has one copy reserved specially for him, but he wants to get there fast just in case. After all, the faster he gets there, the more time he has to read and reread the book.

•••

Ran asks him to accompany her to the grocery store. He doesn’t object as he’s been craving a nice slice of lemon pie; it’s his favorite. Perhaps, while he’s there, he can poke around in the bakery section and see if there’s at least one little slice. And, if there isn’t, he can hope that Ran has enough money to buy the ingredients—he remembers her first attempt at it; it tasted fantastic despite its appearance.

As they’re walking down the sidewalk with his small hand in hers, she tells him about her day. Anything and everything she tells him goes in one ear and out the other. It’s not that her day is boring—no, he’s very interested in hearing about that maths test so don’t get him wrong.

When she asks about his day, he almost doesn’t hear her.

“I went to the bookstore,” he says with a bright smile. “I got a new book and I can’t wait to read it.”

“It’s good that you like to read,” Ran tells him. He nods, averting his eyes as they reach a crosswalk. She squeezes his hand a little tighter, which makes him wonder if she’s afraid that he’ll run out into the street or something.

He squeezes her hand back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will probably be the heist notice. Chapter Three will be a brief interlude introducing Kaito and Aoko. Chapter Four will be the rooftop meeting and Chapter Five will be on the ship.
> 
> Although, Chapter Five may change to something else and Chapter Six and Seven will be made and written as Parts I and II on the ship.
> 
> Terribly sorry, I prefer things to be in sets of 3, 5, 7, or 10.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conan is asked a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just checked. Still don’t own DCMK. Shame.

Rain, while soft and pretty, has the power to shape mountains, chiseling away at the rock and eroding it into the fine beauty that is nature. Sometimes, rain forms itself into delicate drops of coolness, but, also sometimes, it comes down with a powerful ferocity. The thing to remember about rain is that it will stop, even if it may seem never-ending.

Today, the rain is coming down, heavy and cold and leaving that specific scent it does whenever it rain.

Eventually, it does stop. When afternoon bleeds into evening, Ran remembers the odd event that had occurred earlier when she and Sonoko had been out and about, walking around the city and taking cover under their umbrellas. She relays the odd happening to Conan.

When he hears that she claims to have seen Shinichi on the streets at that crosswalk, he almost laughs at her. With a look akin to that of someone trying to refrain from allowing bubbling laughter to spill, he tells her that that’s impossible; he doesn’t tell her that it’s impossible because Shinichi is right here with them. The angry look she gives him makes him step back and sweatdrop when she yells in his face.

Before he can tell her that she’s wrong, a deep voice says, “It can’t be...”

As to be expected, neither Ran nor Kogoro hear the voice. Conan turns his head, raising his brows in a silent question. When he doesn’t receive an answer, he almost sighs. Deciding that those three uttered words are irrelevant at the moment, he listens to the girl rant about how much of a jerk Shinichi is.

If only she knew...

Conan tries once more to reassure her that Shinichi would never ignore a friend like that as she claims he did—or, rather, his lookalike—but she doesn’t listen.

Kogoro, in his buzzed state, other known as the beginnings of inebriation, asks for some clarification. He says something about how Sonoko and her father wish for him to catch a phantom thief and how that’s kind of stupid seeing as how the Suzuki family is a far cry from poor and, therefore, needing no help from him to protect one measly jewel.

Upon hearing the words _phantom thief_ , Conan confusion grows. He glances at the man standing next to him and finds that there’s a look of deep thought on that face. The little detective wants to know what thoughts are stirring behind the mask.

Phantom Thief 1412 is nothing new to him.

Since childhood, he’s heard the name being tossed around a few times. Since childhood, he’s friends with the Phantom Thief 1412. In fact, not too far away, Phantom Thief 1412 stands with a look of deep thought with his poker face on so as to not make his thoughts and feelings visible.

But the Phantom Thief 1412 that he knows was named Kuroba Tōichi and he’s a kind man who had gotten killed in a murder disguised as an accident.

So, would this so-called Phantom Thief 1412 be a copycat? A person looking for thrills and attention? Or, quite possibly, a successor?

Wanting a few answers, he produces a rather dramatic yawn, stretching his arms. He turns on his heel and wishes his two guardians a good night. Then, he heads to the room he shares with the old man—surely, after all that drinking, Kogoro will be passing out in his office while watching recordings of a Yoko Okino show or two.

Before he can even reach the door, Ran says something about a note—a code, actually, she amends when her father makes some sort of offensive comment.

Admittedly, Conan’s curiosity is piqued. And, much like a cat, curiosity beckons him.

_April Fool._

_When the moon splits in half,_

_I will come_ _to visit the origin_

 _of the name of the jet_ _black star_

_at the calling of the waves._

As Kogoro reads the riddle out loud, Conan makes his way over. When the man displays his frustration, Conan grasps the paper so that he may read it for himself. The man yells at him, but Ran tells her father that Conan is allowed to see it.

Even if Kogoro had taken the paper away, Conan already knows the answer to the riddle. That is, if that triumphant smirk were anything to go by.

He contemplates, wondering whether or not he should go. He is, after all, a detective, but thievery is a petty crime and soft compared to the dealings of murder. Conan almost tells himself to leave it be.

Tōichi utters a single word. “Go,” he says, knowing that Conan has solved it.

Despite his initial thoughts, Conan gives a curt nod that doesn’t go by unnoticed by Ran or Kogoro. If Ran has anything to ask him, he won’t reply because he actually does wish to go to bed now.

•••

“That’s my son.”

Conan didn’t have time to ask when he closed the door because Tōichi is first to speak.

“A successor, then,” the boy responds. “I take it that you did not expect for this to happen.”

“I expected him to find my secret, but not for him to don the name.”

The little detective falls quiet, pondering over something in his mind. After a few moments of leaning against the door and burning under the dead magician’s stare, he asks the man something he’s been wanting to know for years. When he inquires, his voice is soft and cautious as he treads on what he assumes to be thin ice.

“Who killed you?”

“Bad people,” Tōichi says, allowing a somber expression to decorate his face. “An organization much like the one that you seek. So, if I may, I would like to ask you to watch my boy for I can do nothing on the mortal plane.”

A favor, Conan realizes, is being asked of him. He recalls the times that Tōichi has helped him, which can account for many times. So, he agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided that the next installment in the series will most likely be a oneshot that focuses on Conan’s interactions with those who have passed and have yet to move on.
> 
> Then, the fourth installment will feature Haibara’s arrival.
> 
> There will be more installments afterwards, but it’s best not to get ahead of myself.
> 
> Anyway... yes, Conan had not asked Tōichi who had killed him until this chapter. See, Conan has made it clear a few times during the series that he knows when there are some mysteries better left unsolved. Plus, he actually has manners in my fic and does his best not to pry.
> 
> And, Tōichi has had no clue that Kaito had taken up the mantle. When the Clocktower Heist had occurred, Tōichi just so happened to not be around. Shinichi never knew much about the heist anyway and he didn’t bother telling Tōichi.
> 
> Oh, yes, the first paragraph was inspired by two quotes I’ve read about rain. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude.

Kaito drums his long, slender fingers against the surface of his desk. With his right hand, he scribbles down the answers to the classwork laying in front of him. His foot taps against the floor, bouncing up and down so much that, somewhere in the more unrealistic part of his mind, he fears that it may fall off.

He can feel the eyes of his classmates watching him with wary expressions. His teacher sounds every bit as cautious as her expression betrays, which makes him laugh because for what reason is everyone so paranoid? Really, it’s not like he’s done anything troublesome.

Then again, he’s done nothing troublesome since walking into school. That is, if flipping Aoko’s skirt as per usual doesn’t count as troublesome.

Kaito sets down his pencil and leans back in his seat, staring out the window. Somewhere between putting down his pencil and letting out an obnoxious yawn, he’s conjured up a deck of cards and begins to pull off some tricks that require little to no thinking on his part.

Tonight, he will appear in a veil of white on a lonely rooftop. If anyone is bright enough to solve his riddle, he won’t be alone when he gets there. And, despite the heightened risk of getting caught, he hopes that that is the case.

Ah, yes, he’s very excited and hopes that tonight’s test run will go according to plan.

Although, if a challenge were to be presented to him, he won’t object... too much.

In the middle of his musings, the teacher calls on him, demanding that he give the solution to a lengthy equation. Without skipping a beat, he recites a string of numbers. Even if he doesn’t look at the woman, he can see her miffed expression as he gets the answer right.

He doesn’t understand what has gotten her feathers so ruffled; it’s not like he’s committing any crime right this moment—in fact, he’s somewhat paying attention to the lesson enough to the point where he isn’t fully immersed in going over tonight’s little test.

•••

“BaKaito,” Aoko stresses, shaking her fist at him. “Just what are you planning?”

“Why, Ahoko, I’m offended that you think so lowly of me,” Kaito says, placing a hand over his heart and feigning great offense. On the inside, he’s only a touched offended, but not enough to harbor any negative feelings towards her. “Do I _look_ like someone plotting?”

“Yes,” Aoko says, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her honeyed tone. “Aoko thinks Kaito is always up to something.”

Kaito wants to deny that statement, but he can’t. A chill envelopes his body and he shudders in response. One glance behind him tells him that Akako is staring straight at him, administering a hauntingly piercing gaze. Despite his unwillingness to do so, he excuses himself so that he may talk with the witch.

Surely, with that odd stare, she has something she wishes to say to him.

When he takes the final step in front of her, she seizes him by the arm. Her gaze hardens into a cold glare as she parts her lips to speak.

“He who knows well the non-mortal plane will make his presence known once more,” she hisses in his ear, making sure he got every word. “Tonight, be wary and make no mistake of underestimation.”

“Uh-huh, cool,” Kaito says, prying her hand off his arm. When he manages to remove her grip, he flexes, commenting about how she almost cut off his circulation. “I can’t say I have any idea what you’re talking about, but—“

“Kuroba,” she says with no conviction. “Tonight, you will be played by the hands of Fate and she may not be so gracious as to let you escape this He that Lucifer speaks of.”

The magician makes the wise choice to ignore the beautifully scary woman. As he turns away, he asks himself what her words could mean. She made the effort to place emphasis on once more, which implies that he’s encountered this person that she speaks of. He thinks back, trying to recall any times where he felt challenged and almost unable to escape.

One heist comes to mind, which makes him feel a little giddy with adrenaline. Is it possible, that the detective who challenged him at that Clock Tower heist wishes for a rematch? He remembers his ever-growing frustration that built up as he scrambled for quick ways out of the ensnaring vines. Originally, he was under the impression that the inspector had finally grown a brain.

He contemplates asking her if she means that mysterious detective that almost cornered him. His only quibble is that such a brilliant mind could potentially ruin everything, but he cares not enough. He does, after all, have an audience he cannot disappoint. And magicians do their best to not disappoint.

•••

Kaito ducks at the last second when a mop comes swinging at his beautiful face. “Aoko, I say this because I love you, but I really think you need to go to anger management classes. I can find you the best—how does that sound?”

“You promised that you’d come with me!” Aoko yells, tightening her grip on the wood handle of the household weapon. “You said so last week! And take that back, you _jerk_.”

“Yes, well, Ahoko, sometimes things decide to pop up. You understand that, right? I’m sorry for having a life.”

The messy-haired girl screams something unintelligible as she tries once more to land a hit on the infuriating boy that stands before her. With ease, he dodges once more and does a tumble backwards. He lets out a low whistle, impressed with her strength when he sees that she left a dent in the flooring.

“Actually, I will take back what I said about anger management,” he remarks, placing his thumb and index finger on his chin in a thinking pose. “You should ask your old man to sign you up for some fight club.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I do not know Akako’s character that well. Whoops.


	4. Chapter 4

The only thievery Conan has ever been interested in is the theft of a human life because a life cannot be given back once it’s taken.

If not for Tōichi asking him to, he’s going to meet the thief because he’s very much so intrigued. This Phantom Thief 1412 II _(—it’s actually Kaito, remember?—)_ has the audacity to spell out his plans for the whole world to see, but the police are just too blind to see it—they all are. He finds that somewhat hilarious and he can’t help but yearn to meet this boy.

Besides, the least he can do for Tōichi is let him see his son once more.

•••

There’s an hour left until midnight, which leaves him with about an hour an a half before the fated arrival of this Phantom Thief 1412.

Conan is situated in the office, sitting on Kogoro’s desk as he scribbles a small note for Ran to find should he not arrive back before she wake up. He doubts that he’ll be out that long, but with his luck, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Besides, he’ll feel a little better about sneaking out like this if he does so and Tōichi is on his case about making sure he does something to make his whereabouts known.

When he finishes, Conan decides to grab a lighter, a spare firework that’s laying around in one of the old man’s drawers for some forsaken reason, and an empty beer can that has yet to be thrown away. With little difficulty, he manages to fit it all in the pockets of his shorts. He doubts that they’ll be put to use as he doesn’t know if he’ll go through with his plan of alerting the police of their position.

For a few minutes, the little detective decides to interrogate Tōichi. He finds that his father was the one to give Phantom Thief 1412 the nickname of KID. The magician tells him that he can expect a worthy adversary out of Kaito. Then, he learns that Kaito’s pokerface is strong and well-constructed.

Conan can’t wait.

With a glance at his watch, he decides that now is as good a time as any to start walking. If he wants to make it to the Haido City Hotel in time, leaving now is a great choice. When he’s outside, he can’t help but shiver a bit.

•••

Conan throws the door open.

The rooftop is void of life, which he hopes is just because KID hasn’t arrived yet. He’s certain that his deduction is correct and that the thief’s note is pointing to this rooftop. Though, he supposes that he’ll have to wait. It is, after all, only—

12:28 a.m.

In hindsight, perhaps wearing shorts this late at night had been a bad idea on his part; that much he tells Tōichi as he sets down the beer can while placing the firework within the opening. As he stands, he places both hands in either pocket. Since the lighter had been in his left pocket, he fingers it with his left hand, careful so he won’t turn it on by accident.

“Tōichi-san,” he says, sliding his eyes over and up to glance at magician. The two of them have their backs to the door as they face the city. “Can I assume that there was both rhyme and reason for your thievery?”

“There was,” Tōichi says. “Sometimes, one turns to unorthodox methods to stay on the right side of the law.”

“You were looking for something?” Conan guesses. “Those bad guys you mentioned the other day... were they looking for it, too?”

Then, the hairs on the back of his neck rise as a silent presence appears from behind. Conan spins around, garnering Tōichi’s attention. The two of them watch as a white figure stands, his cape billowing in the wind.

Even though it’s to be expected, Tōichi’s face crumbles a bit when KID doesn’t acknowledge his presence. The pokerface is built back up faster than Conan can comprehend. Then, the thief speaks.

“Yo, kid,” says he, “what are you doing in a place like this?”

“You’re one to talk, _KID_ ,” Conan snarks, turning back around. He rolls his shoulders back, wondering if he should light the firework. “And what are _you_ doing in a place like this?”

“Oh, you know, I thought I’d stretch my wings before the finale to this performance of mine.” There’s a chuckle; it’s low and smooth. “Shouldn’t little boys be in bed?”

Conan chuckles, hiding an amused smile behind his hand. In that moment, he decides that he would very much so prefer to face off KID without the police joining in on this dance. In one swift motion, he pulls back his sleeve and aims his wristwatch stun gun at the thief.

Because he’s all bark and all bite, he manages a predatory grin. “Shouldn’t phantom thieves be in jail?”

KID seems to be a tad surprised at the snark he’s given as he tilts his head back just the slightest bit. The movement gives Conan the chance to see indigo eyes that lean towards violet hiding behind the shadows formed by that top hat’s brim. Then, the thief says something in reply, but it’s lost as Tōichi tells Conan not to shoot.

Despite himself, Conan listens. He drops his arms after closing the lid of his watch. KID looks intrigued at the action, prompting him to ask if that watch may be more than just a watch.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Conan remarks, pushing up his glasses.

“My, aren’t you a snarky brat?”

“Edogawa Conan, detective,” says Conan.

As if he weren’t intimidated by the fact that someone who looks like a child had been able to solve his riddle, KID laughs a little. “Pass this on to the Inspector: Tonight was just a drill—a joke.”

He disappears and a note falls to the ground, weighed down by a single rose of the white variety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s 12:15 a.m. and I should be sleeping, but I’m starving and I have no snacks in my room. :(
> 
> Also, originally, I was going to make Conan light the firework. Then, I decided, nah.


	5. Chapter 5

Conan waits a few seconds for the officers to filter out. Then, he grabs Ran’s hand and looks up at her with large eyes. “Ran-nēchan,” he says in a childish whine as he tugs at her hand. “Ran-nēchan, let’s go catch him too!”

Aboard the Queens Elizabeth, only a few miles from land, Conan is ready to face the thief once more. Tōichi has followed him with the intent of helping the little detective determine whom KID had disguised himself as. Because he’s capable of discerning that much by himself, he refuses the help.

Tōichi entertains himself with making offhand comments, telling Conan more about his son.

As he begins to march on, still grasping Ran’s hand, trying to pull her with him. She won’t move, her feet rooted to the spot.

He twists his head a bit so he can look at her. With a hint of a smile, he tells her that he’s figured it out and she needs to come with him.

Conan has, in fact, figured out which passenger the thief is masquerading as. Anticipation choruses in his veins, pumping adrenaline as he finds the strength to get her to move. She stumbles after him as he leads the both of them to a more secluded area of the ship. He needs not to get the thief arrested, but to get a conversation from him for Tōichi’s sake.

As soon as he arrived at the destination, he lets go of Ran’s hand in favor of placing both of his in his pockets. He takes a few steps forward. Because he doesn’t say anything, Tōichi does, but only Conan can hear his words.

Another favor is what Tōichi asks of him.

Conan nods as he allows a smirk to grace his features. From behind him, Ran pipes up. She speaks his name. Then, she asks if Kaitō KID would really be here, would really be in the engine room.

He doesn’t answer.

“Say, Ran-nēchan, do you know about the gem language?”

Her voice is soft, but still carries over to him nonetheless. She tells him that she can’t recall, that she doesn’t know.

He starts pacing around, humming a little to himself. The notes are a tiny bit off, but it’s recognizable either way.

(On an unrelated topic to the heist, Tōichi had thought to take up a challenge by trying to help Conan get over his inability to sing. Over the years, he’s been getting there. Somewhat. _Barely_.)

“In gem language, the words for pearl are moon and lady,” he says, beginning his little lesson. “The only lady with the character for moon in her name is Suzuki Tomoko. In other words, from the very beginning, she’s the one carrying the real pearl.”

“I see,” says she, “but how did that help you find out who KID is?”

He turns around in a slow and fluid motion. Then, he says, “The card—remember? KID’s message was glued to the card you picked.”

She nods, looking a little perplexed. Ran doesn’t say anything. Instead, she motions for him to continue with his little deduction. He’s more than happy to do so.

“By diverting the audience’s attention to the pigeon, he has the perfect smokescreen to place the prepared card on top; it’s a simple trick that makes it so the same card is on top no matter who shuffles the deck or how the deck is shuffled.”

Sanada is KID—that’s what she thinks.

He tells her that she’s wrong, that that magician had no opportunity to grab the pearl. There is, however, one person who had an opening.

She doesn’t speak. Her lips are pulled into a thin line as she waits for him to spit out his little guess. As if he takes her silence as a confession, he holds out his hand, peering into her eyes and past the disguise.

“I’d like that pearl back, _KID_.”

“To give it back implies that it was yours in the first place,” says the thief as he removes his disguise. “We both know it wasn’t yours to begin with.”

“Nor is it yours,” Conan says. He takes a step forward, his hand still stretched out. “The pearl, KID.”

In his mind, the little detective wonders if Tōichi taught KID all he knows. Though, maybe he hasn’t, considering KID must have been around the age of eight at the time of the magician’s passing—passing? Tōichi was killed, murdered by men of pitch and hearts of feathered black.

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear—though, this one never left. Tōichi places a hand on Conan’s shoulder. Although it’s only a phantom touch, he feels a chill. His eyes slide over to see that the man has something to say.

“If he’s anything like me,” Tōichi says, “he’ll return the jewel.”

Because he knows that he can trust the magician, Conan drops his arms, stuffing it back into his pocket. He spins on his heel and heads for the only other exit in the room. His left hand rests on the frame of the door and one foot is already out.

“I expect that jewel back before you leave,” he says.

The thief says something, making a remark about the peculiar attitude his opponent has. Then, he informs Conan of the location of the true Mouri Ran.

And, just like that, it’s over.

•••

A while ago, Conan had returned the jewel. Now, he waits, standing in the night. He’s not quite sure what he’s waiting for, but he’s patiently waiting anyway.

Tōichi says something, his voice lost in a sudden gust of wind and going unheard of by anyone but the bespectacled boy.

His hair is being threaded through by a breeze and his glasses glint in the moonlight. He manages a small nod, a promise. Conan turns on his heel and walks off at the beckoning call of his faux name.

Before he can go any further, he looks over his shoulders and at the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to include the soccer scene, but I decided to forego it. Where does he even get that soccer ball? I haven’t watched the episode in a while as I used my other fic as a reference. :P
> 
> Okie, so, PSA, I may reorder the series. I might rewrite the episode where Hattori comes in. It totally escaped my mind that I had forgotten to introduce Hattori even though I’m introducing Haibara next.
> 
> After writing those two, I’ll be writing a story that’s supposed to be a kind of movie-esque kind of vibe.
> 
> Or, I will make the next story seven chapters. Three for Hattori and three for Haibara with an interlude in between. :)
> 
> Oh, yeah, as always, I wrote this when I was either falling asleep or half-asleep and on my way to school. Sorry for any errors.


End file.
